After Hours
by Cold Fire Phoenix
Summary: Iruka encounters Kakashi at a cafe in town after dusk.


Iruka smiled, waving as the last of his students ran down the road, seeking to escape the drudgery of the Academy and return home to their waiting parents. He sighed, running one hand through his hair. He felt old, watching the street clear for the evening. The dinner crowds would emerge soon, civilian citizens and shinobi searching for what pleasure they could have in their lives.

Iruka was planning on going home... After finishing with the paperwork he'd allowed to pile up on his desk. When did it all get there? He couldn't recall. He moved back inside, locking the door behind him. Fifteen minutes, he promised himself. He wouldn't stay more than fifteen minutes.

Three hours later, he rubbed his eyes and caught himself mid-yawn. "Damnit," he cursed, pushing back from his desk. The soft yellow light of his desk-lamp flickered. He looked up at the ceiling dully, a sigh escaping his lips. "That's it. Iruka, you are done." He stood, steeling his sense of right against the guilt he felt while looking down at the still sizable pile of untouched paperwork.

When had his life turned so... Bureaucratic? It almost made him long for the days spent on mission, moving outside under the stars... the sun... the pelting rain... the enemy attacks... the blood of comrades... Alright. Maybe not.

He frowned, flicking the light off as he left the small shared office. The halls of the Academy were dark, the wood creaky under Iruka's feet. He had bittersweet memories of this place, tinged with his youth and the lives of those he'd seen come through its old wooden doors. Even, he admitted with a fond smile, of those who he hadn't realized mattered. Like Naruto.

Iruka wouldn't say it, but he missed the blond-haired brat. How many years had it been, now? Nearly two since he'd last seen Naruto leaving with Jiraiya. He'd been full of promises and smiles then. Iruka wondered how many Naruto had already fulfilled.

The night air was brisk, a welcome cool touch against Iruka's face. The moon was out, a half-filled sphere of light hanging low in the sky. The stars were particularly vivid, peppering the dark indigo sky. Iruka had never enjoyed the night sky in his youth. He'd lost his parent's under one like this.

He shook his head. He wasn't one to linger in the past, not any more. Life moved on, and he moved with it.

Windows shone light down onto the streets Iruka walked, casting false warmth into the night air. The few restaurants open this late stood mostly empty, their occupants lazing over a cup of coffee or a bowl of whatever soup had been that evening's special.

Still, Iruka felt himself drawn to the intangible promise of life they held. His dark apartment waited for him; down one of the narrow streets in the older section of town he'd known most his life. Funny, how when he'd been young, he'd promised himself he'd leave the old buildings and roads and make something of himself. Show everyone it didn't matter that he'd lost his parents. Show everyone that he was worthy of praise.

He smiled ironically. Odd, how that hadn't quite worked like he'd planned. Nor had he apparently learned from his own past, failing to recognize Naruto's similar antics.

Iruka walked through the door of a corner cafe he'd never stopped inside before. The older woman behind the counter smiled tiredly, welcoming him with an unreadable look. He smiled back, questioning his own urges even as he sat himself at the counter. The woman approached. "Can I do you for anything?"

"Whatever's easiest," he said amicably, winking. The woman snorted, plopping a cup and saucer down in front of him.

"Tea it is."

Iruka smiled to himself, looking around the small space. A young couple sat hunched together at one of the few tables, talking intimately. He looked away, feeling intrusive. One other person sat down the counter a bit, leafing through a familiar looking novel. Iruka mentally snapped his fingers. One of those "Icha Icha Paradise" type novels Jiraiya wrote. He spared a brief thought to exactly what sort of training Naruto would be receiving with the sannin, but shrugged his shoulders. Jiraiya may be a bit... perverse, but Iruka knew the sannin weren't called such because they were horrifically terrible ninja. Unfortunately, he thought with a small frown, the name Orochimaru flitting across his mind.

However, it was neither here nor now for him to be worried. Much as he joked with his students, Iruka was far from being the crux in the turn of events in Kohona. He would guide those he could, in hopes they would be the heroes this world so dearly needed. The living heroes. There were far too many good men and women lying in their graves already; though the reality was those young faces would age rapidly outside of Iruka's control. The life of the ninja was not easy on anyone.

The woman returned, filling his cup with the steaming liquid from a quaint kettle. "Sugar?"

"Milk," he asked politely, smiling once more when she returned with a little container.

"Have as much as you'd like, honey," she said, winking. He chuckled, amused.

The man further down the counter waved, the woman pausing by him to answer some unheard question. Iruka watched with idle interest, before realizing he recognized him. "Kakashi?" How had he failed to realize earlier? Naruto's squad leader was not what Iruka would term "hard" to mistake.

Kakashi turned his head, looking disinterested as normal. He nodded, acknowledging Iruka. "Yo." He half waved with his fingers, his hand moving to the side.

Neither spoke to the other. They weren't friends, if in ways, Iruka had argued with Kakashi over Naruto's progress. He'd finally had to admit Kakashi knew his old student far better than Iruka - and it was bittersweet to understand.

Iruka's thoughts moved over their encounters... all over Naruto. He smiled, recalling the blonde's own smiling face. Naruto was always surprising Iruka. He had no doubt when he returned, Naruto would once more blow Iruka away. He was proud, in an almost fatherly way.

He stirred his tea, feeling warm. The paperwork at the Academy felt far away, as did the cold dark of his apartment. He waved, hoping to catch the waitress's attention. She made her way back toward him, smiling. "Everything alright?"

"Oh," he said, looking down at his full cup. "Yes," he said, with a smile. "Everything's great. Err... what might I call you?"

"Kazuki," she replied, raising an eyebrow and smiling in return.

"Kazuki," Iruka repeated. "A beautiful name."

She snorted, but he wasn't finished.

"Kazuki, has the man down the counter there paid for himself yet?"

"No," she said, looking down at Kakashi. "Should I be worried?"

Iruka shook his head, a startled laugh escaping his throat. "No, nothing like that." He smiled, digging for his wallet. He pulled out a few coins, laying them in Kazuki's hand. "Whatever he's had, it's on me." He fished a few more out, adding those to her hand as well despite her surprised look. "Mine as well." He smiled, looking mildly embarrassed.

"Ah - well, let me get you change," the woman started, but Iruka interrupted her with a small wave of his hand. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"No, no! Keep the change."

She narrowed her eyes, and then smiled. "Thank you," she said. "Will you be finishing up your tea, then?"

He smiled ruefully. "I don't think so. Have to get home to sleep." He looked apologetic.

Kazuki shrugged, and took the cup and saucer with her, dismissing his oddity. He paid for his tea - he didn't have to drink it if he didn't want to.

Iruka stood, looking once more in Kakashi's direction. "You were right about him, Kakashi," he said. The other man looked up from his book, impassive. Iruka smiled. "I underestimated him."

Kakashi blinked, but Iruka was already lost to his own thoughts as he turned and moved back out into the cool night air. He could hardly wait for the future. He had a feeling it would be a bright place, if Naruto had his way.

And in his heart, Iruka knew he would


End file.
